Four Years
by Ryuuko1
Summary: AU. 4 years after Sam and Tucker didn't rescue Danny from Freakshow's train in "Control Freaks", the half-ghost returns home, having freed himself.
1. Danny

**Author:** A brief break. These will be a series of one-shots that I don't see continuing. Everything is already written, so it's just a matter of tweaking things. I hope you enjoy my little (unfortunate) angst-fest. AU. I love 'what-if?' situations far too much. Each chapter will be from a different character's point of view. This was lots of fun to write.

**Disclaimer**: I've published enough fanfiction for anyone to notice that Danny Phantom and all associated things don't belong to me.

**4 years**

4 years.

That's how long it has been since Sam and Tucker didn't catch the train.

That's how long I was under _his_ control.

I'm now back at Amity Park, a lesser man for it. I haven't been in human form for that entire time, so I don't know if when I turn back I will appear the same as the 14-year-old Danny Fenton or if I will have aged into an 18-year-old. Either way, it doesn't matter to me.

I stand—well, hover—in front of the door to my old home, invisible. My parents discovered who I am a few days after I was taken. They had been my most persistent hunters—until they discovered that my actions weren't entirely volitional, upon which they tried any number of ways to break the spell.

Needless to say, none of them worked. Not until my power grew greater than that contained within that _infernal_ crystal ball.

A bitter smile finds it way to my face as the memory of Freakshow's face after I smashed the ball into a trillion tiny pieces floats in my mind.

"_How?"_ he had asked, utterly astonished.

"I'm stronger than you give me credit for," I told him before possessing him and bringing him over to the authorities, having him spill everything during the confession—the years of ghost abuse, of manipulation and thievery.

As far as I know he's going to be away for quite some time.

That doesn't change my part in everything.

I regret not having had those 4 years of my life. I can't rewind everything, couldn't have _made_ Sam and Tuck gain superhuman speed and catch the train. I can't reclaim all the opportunities that I've lost, all the relationships I could have formed, everything I could have learned.

I must make do with what I've left.

You want to know what it was that helped me clear away the last bond that I had to that stupid ringmaster?

Jazz.

Not Sam, Tucker, or my parents—it was _Jasmine._ My sister. My dear, know-it-all, self-sacrificing, _stupid_ sister.

It took her throwing herself in front of the train to truly knock me out of it. I saved her, then set us all free and vanished. I couldn't face her with the knowledge of what I'd gradually willingly done.

I'm as guilty as Freakshow is.

Even with the control imposed by the ball, I was above rules, and that kind of freedom is intoxicating. I hate myself for having enjoyed it so much, but there's nothing I can do to change the past. I can only live with it, own up to it.

And I will begin with my parents.

I transform back into my human form for the first time in years.


	2. Maddie

**Author**: This is the second in my series of shorts. We get to see Danny's return through another perspective.

**Disclaimer**: I'm tired of coming up with witty disclaimers--Danny Phantom isn't mine. The end.

**4 Years**

It was nearly debilitating, losing a son.

True, it was a shock discovering that my little boy was the same as the ghost child, but, in a way, I wonder how I didn't see it before. When he was whisked away on that circus train, I thought nothing of it—it was just the ghost child escaping, and good riddance to the nuisance.

It wasn't until my boy never came home that evening that I felt something was wrong. Two days later, when I discovered that _my son_ was the ghost boy _and_ he was doing so many horrible things...I wanted to stop him, for his sake.

At first, I saw him as needing to be stopped before he hurt others.

Then I saw him needing to be stopped before he hurt _himself_.

Then it became the need to see him _returned_ to his Self.

Time and experience changes things. I wanted my son back so _badly,_ but no matter how hard I tried, it was as if nothing got through the suggestion of the crystal ball that held his will captive.

I looked in his eyes once and saw nothing but a void. I saw something that was nearly soulless in its lack of volition. He was unable to make his own choices, and for that reason I pitied him and wanted him to go back to being who he was.

A knock at my door makes me wonder. Very few people knock anymore—if they are coming to us, they are usually quite desperate and don't bother with such pleasantries as knocking. I check the screen near it to see if it is a ghost playing at being a person, and see the strangest readings. When a human is possessed by a ghost, the reading is comes out as entirely ghost with a human shape. This one, however...is as if I am looking at a _melding_ of a ghost and a human. But...how is that possible? A human with ghost genetics or a ghost with human genetics were the only things I could think of that would have such a structure.

Quickly on the heels of that thought is a memory of my daughter saying that she _thought_ she may have freed Danny from the spell he had been under.

I rip open the doorway to see him—him?—standing awkwardly before me. My hand is on my gun as I look him over. I know that I should be thinking things through, running tests to make certain he _is_ my son, but somehow...somehow I _know._ Perhaps it is the guilt in his eyes, telling me that even though it appears that he has reverted to who he once was, it is only superficial. He experienced everything these past 4 years. The emptiness I saw that time was to protect _me_ from what he knew he was doing.

The first words out of his mouth as he stepped through the door were: "I'm sorry...and I love you."


	3. Sam

**Author note**: Posted a little early because I'm panicking about a thousand little things that are due this weekend...I hope you enjoy this installment!

**Disclaimer:** DP isn't mine.

**4 years: Samantha**

I'm not one of those heroines in TV shows or movies that pine away for their love interest when he (or, very rarely, she) vanishes or is taken away.

Sure, Danny leaving hurt. A lot. For a while. But all I could do was curse my human body and hope that he would find a way to break free of the control on his own. Needless to say, he didn't. I did my best to move on.

I am home from college on break when Mrs. Fenton calls me. This is rare—we have had little contact since I revealed who, and what, Danny was. Is.

Whatever.

I answer the phone, wary yet curious. "Hello?"

"Sam—I...I have news. About Danny."

"Danny makes the news often," I comment dryly. It is true. Even though no-one can truly say who steals the various objects, the manner in which they are stolen speaks volumes to those who know Danny's...new nature.

"No, not like that," Mrs. Fenton said, although there was understanding in her voice. "He's back."

"What do you mean, 'back'?" I asked uncertainly.

"He's here, in Amity Park. Home. He's no longer under control either."

Shock reverberates through my system, but I don't dare let myself hope. "Are you sure? Am I really talking to Mrs. Fenton?"

"I am who I say I am," comes the understanding answer. She knows why I ask—possession is always a possibility and a threat. "And Danny _has_ returned to us. Trust me."

My heart beats painfully in my chest, but my natural cynicism comes blasting to the fore, along with an old, forgotten hurt. "Why should I care?" I half-snap. "Danny's dead to me. I've moved on!" I'm lying, I know, but...too much had been lost. I'm not the Sam he knew, and I am almost entirely certain that I wouldn't be able to bear him being different from what I remember.

I dimly hear a voice in the background and the unmistakable shuffle of a phone being handed to someone else.

"Sam?"

I freeze, my breath caught in my throat. "Danny?" I ask, hardly believing my ears.

"Yeah. Look...I'm sorry. Four years is a long time, and I know...I know you've changed. I don't want to pick up where we left off—we just _can't—_but...I would like to see you again."

"Who are you to say that?" I snap. "You're my _past_ Danny! Nothing can change the fact that we no longer know each other! I don't want you back in my life..." the words left unspoken are clear enough: 'I don't want to be hurt again.'

There is a long silence on the other end before I hear a soft sigh. "Okay, Sam. I understand." There is a short pause before he speaks again: "May I at least _see_ you? You won't know I'm there. I just...need to confirm that time has passed."

I take a deep breath, then say: "It'd be creepy if you just came in without me knowing you're around. I'll meet you at Fenton Works. I won't come in. I'll meet you on the front porch, and then I'm leaving."

"That's fair," Danny replies, voice tinged with a soft, understanding sadness that I can't bear.

"Bye," I say hurriedly and hang up. I scrub away the tears that had been silently falling down my cheeks, and steel myself for what is to come.

I grab my jacket as I leave, hop into my mini and drive over to Fenton Works. I park illegally and take a moment to gather myself. I look up at the door and sigh.

_This is nothing, Sam,_ I tell myself. _You've faced down ghosts all your life. How is this any different?_

I don't have to knock. The door opens before me as I raise my fist and I find myself looking at a face I had never thought to see again.

Danny.

"Danny?" I ask, voice trembling, much to my dismay.

Danny reaches out to me and gently places a hand on my shoulder. "Yes."

"Oh...oh _god_..." my mind is spinning. This just _can't be happening._ Before, I could have denied it on the basis that I was just hallucinating, but to _feel_ his hand, know that he exists _physically_...that is proof I can't dispute.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I hurt you."

"You're damn right you did!" I yell at him. "But it's my fault as well. I failed you. If only I had moved faster...!" My breath hitches and I bite back tears. I will not cry. I cried enough when he was first taken from me and had resolved to never cry over a boy again. How is that by simply walking back into my life he stirs up so many emotions and memories I thought I had long buried?

Danny slowly shakes his head, and I can see guilt in every line of his body. "You did what you could. I'm back...but I don't know what to do."

"No-one ever does," I answer.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but...will you help me?"

"After fucking things up once, I'm surprised you ask."

"Second chances are important."

"It won't be easy."

"Nothing in my life ever is."

Seeing him smile, if ever-so-faintly, brings back memories, but good ones. It still hurts to see 4 years gone, to know that everything we had faded along with the passage of time. There is nothing we can do about the past, though.

All we can focus on is the present.


	4. Tucker

**Author Note**: Here's the next installment on the actual day I said I'd be posting. ^_^b As always, a huge thank you to all my readers.

**Disclaimer**: Danny Phantom belongs not to me.

**Tucker**

I am tinkering with a computer program at college remotely from home when my cell goes off. I look at the screen and, seeing it is Sam, pick it up.

"Yo!"

"Tucker, you _have_ to come over to the Fenton's _now_."

I blink, having never heard that tone in Sam's voice before. "What? Why?"

I hear a deep breath on the other end before Sam says, "Danny's back."

"Back? What do you mean 'back'?" I ask, incredulous.

"He broke free," Sam tells me with certainty. "And he's come back to Amity."

My voice has utterly deserted me, and my mouth moves without sound coming out of it.

"I know," Sam tells me, a familiar cynical note to her voice. "You're actually responding better than I did."

"I...I...wow. You're sure?"

"Completely."

Sam never lies to me. I have no choice _but_ to believe her. Perhaps it is easy for me to believe, though, since I _want _to believe.

I missed Danny. We understood each other implicitly...and without that, well, high school had been _interesting._ "I'll be right over," I tell Sam and hang up.

I stand and collect the essentials in a half-daze.

Danny! Back! My best friend since forever! Returned to himself and Amity!

4 years too late.

He had missed almost all of high school. He was behind in every sense of the word.

_Crap._

Do you know how _hard_ it is to watch the news and know that, out there, your best friend is doing _horrible_ things against his will and there is nothing you can do to stop him? For a while, Sam and I tried to help the Fentons, but when our grades started to slip, they (along with our own parents) insisted that we concentrate on our future, leaving the past to the Fentons.

Sam's parents felt immensely justified for thinking Danny was a bad influence. My parents were more baffled than anything else. What could have caused the reversal? They had known Danny almost his entire life—he just wasn't like how he was acting.

I make it to the Fenton's _somehow_ and find him already standing in the doorway, watching me with sad, guarded eyes. He gives me a wry smile. "Hi, Tuck."

"Danny." It's the only thing I can think to say. Here he is, standing before me. Changed...and yet, not.

"Come in," he says in that voice that brings back memories of early morning DOOM and late night ghost hunts.

I enter, he closing the door behind me with a gentle click.

I face him and just _look_ at him. Ghosts have tried to fool me before, have tried to take his place and wreck even more havoc on his family and friends than even Danny's own actions were doing.

He smiles carefully under my scrutiny. "You're looking good, Tuck."

"Can't say the same about you," I reply, mouth on autopilot, and Danny's smile grows slightly.

"I know, pale as a ghost, right? Freakshow didn't really get out much and all our missions tended to be at night."

I flinch slightly and Danny's smile fades, he looking ashamed.

"Sorry," he mumbles and I shake my head.

"Not your fault," I reply, still watching Danny closely. There is something just undeniably _Danny_ about him in a way that the other ghosts hadn't quite been able to replicate. The person standing before me _really is Danny._

"How'd you get free?" I ask.

"Jazz. Where is she, anyway?"

"She's out doing some grocery shopping," Mrs. Fenton said, putting a hand on her son's shoulder. "She'll be home soon enough."

The relief and sadness on Danny's face makes _me_ sad. "Hey, can I have a mano-a-mano talk with Danny?" I ask, looking at Mrs. Fenton.

Mrs. Fenton and Sam share a _look_ that leaves me confused, but they eventually leave me and Danny in the living room.

"What's up, Tuck?" Danny asks, wary and curious.

"What was it like?"

He knows what I'm talking about. "Do you want the truth or a comfortable lie?" he asks somberly.

"Tell me the truth."

"In the beginning...it was weird. I _knew_ I was doing bad things, but I couldn't find it in myself to _care._ Then...I got stronger over time. I felt my consciousness finally beginning to break through the hold, but at that point I _really_ _didn't care._"

I stare at him. "So, it was _voluntary_?"

A grimace passes across his face and his shoulders slump in shame. "Kinda. I mean, I started to resist him because I didn't like what he wanted me to steal. _I_ had standards. It had to be worth something, not just 'rob a jewelry store'; there needed to be a challenge." Danny's voice was thick with self-loathing. "It's hard to live with myself now that I can fully recognize the implications of everything I did. I'm as guilty as Freakshow is," he says bitterly.

I'm struck speechless. What can I say? I can't condone his actions, but I want to comfort him. He's obviously beating himself up inside.

"Danny...okay, so, yeah, you did bad things," I say, rubbing the back of my neck, "but you can change that now, right? You don't plan on still stealing things, do you?"

Danny shook his head emphatically.

"So...you can make up for all the bad things you did. I mean, everything was recovered, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but..."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Look. It's been four years, and that's a long time, but you still have your entire life ahead of you. I think that however many years you have before you gives you enough time to make up for a few years of being...not at your best."

He gives me a sad smile. "I guess." He hesitates, then looks at me, meeting my eyes. "Do you...do you think you can help me?"

I give him an attempt at a reassuring smile. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"You're okay with me just suddenly showing up? Coming back out of the blue?"

"Well, I mean, it wasn't entirely your fault," I say slowly. "Everyone missed you a lot and it was hard knowing you were out there being...not who you are. Were. Either way, it doesn't matter. It wasn't easy to get through high school without my best bud," I tell him, lightly punching his shoulder.

He gives me a wan smile. "Sam was pissed."

"Sam was hit hard," I say, recalling with a wince the depression she had descended into. "She blamed herself for your disappearance. It took a lot out of her to move on. You were..._important._" Which was, perhaps, the understatement of the century.

Danny looks away. "But it _isn't_ her fault."

"Girls are weird. Let's leave it at that."

Danny gives me a shadow of a familiar smile. "Okay."

"Right. Now—" my speech is cut short as I hear a gasp behind me. Danny and I turn to look at the figure standing in the doorway.


	5. Jasmine

**Author Note: **Back again, a day early. Now we see it from Jazz's POV.

**Disclaimer**: See all prior chapters.

**Four Years: Jasmine**

After opening the door, I drop my the bags I'm holding in utter shock and disbelief, my eyes falling immediately on the person standing in the living room.

Had I...had I succeeded?

I hadn't been sure before. I mean, the only thing that told me something may have changed was the fact that the train turned intangible for the duration of the time needed for it to pass through me. I hadn't known if it was _Danny_ who had done that, or if something else had somehow caused that to happen.

I had wanted to believe it was Danny, but...

"Danny?" I ask, my heart in my throat, I half-in and half-out of the house. There was just something undeniably _Danny_ about the person standing next to Tucker. It wasn't something as superficial as his appearance, it was more of an...aura, I guess. He just _felt_ like Danny in a way that none of the impostors had managed to.

Danny approached me slowly until he was standing in front of me. "Yeah," he answered softly. "It's me."

"You're...?" I trail off, placing my hand lightly against his cheek, just checking that he was _solid_ and that I wasn't losing it.

"Not under control anymore," he finished for me with a small, half-hearted smile.

Silence descends and I can almost _feel_ the chasm between us as my hand falls back to my side. It's more than just four years of _time_ standing in the way. Its four years of experiences. Of opportunities lost. Of lessons learned and forgotten. Of _life_.

And _that_ can't be discounted.

I don't care, though. Danny is my brother and I fought _hard_ to get him back. I pick up the grocery bags, calmly step through the doorway, and put the bags on the kitchen table before looking at Danny. "Help me unpack the car."

A smile flickers across Danny's face. "Fine."

We both exit into the twilight-air and walk over to my car in an easy silence.

"Did I...?" I ask after a moment's hesitation.

"Free me? Yeah. Yeah, you did."

"Why now? I mean, we've been trying to get you free for—"

"Four years. I know. I wasn't...I wasn't strong enough before then," Danny confesses, and a flash of pain crosses his face.

"There's something more, though," I murmur, closing the trunk as Danny—and two clones of Danny—heft the remaining bags, I carrying but one.

"Well, yeah," Danny says uncertainly. "There is."

"What is it?"

Danny looks at me and guilt is heavy in his features. "I probably could have escaped sooner."

"But you didn't."

"Well, no."

"Why?"

Danny sighs and looks at the ground. "There were no rules. There were no consequences. It was...pure freedom. That's hard to let go."

I put down the one bag I was holding and simply pull Danny to me, holding him in a gentle hug. He stiffens in surprise for a moment before he wraps his arms around me as well, leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Danny, you're still my little brother," I tell him. "Nothing will change that."

"Even though I've...?"

"You're still alive, aren't you?"

"Yeah?"

"Then you can change," I say and pull back, still holding his upper-arms, just looking at him. "And anyway, I want you to work out all your issues with me; I'm well on my way to my BA in psychology, you know, and I'd love to practice on a willing victim—I mean, patient."

Danny cracks a smile and chuckles softly. "Sure, sis."

I give him a smile and pat his arms before letting go and picking up the bag I had let go of and walk up the stairs, pulling the door open for my little brother.

He walks in and I close the door behind us, forcing him back into the warmth and love that he may think he has lost, but, really...

It's been here, waiting, all along.


	6. Jack

**Author**: Sorry for the delay. My time was taken up by schoolwork and job apps. Here's the next chapter. There will be either one or two chapters left, depending on whether or not the characters decide to cooperate with me...

**Disclaimer:** DP isn't mine, no matter how much I lust after the copyrights.

**4 Years**

~Jack~**  
**

I'm not stupid.

Alright, I might not be the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm not a _total_ moron. I catch on pretty quick when something happens that affects my family.

I'd known for years about Vlad's grudge against me and his lust for my wife. I just...hoped that he'd change. Get over himself and his pain.

I haven't heard from him in years. I suppose he must have moved on.

Anyway, that's off topic.

My son is home.

After _4 years_, he's back. I...I don't know what to do, don't know what to say. I'm torn between wanting to crush all the air out of his lungs (although I fear I might break his spine—he's too thin), berate him for not telling me about him being a half-ghost sooner, and breaking down into manly tears.

I don't think he ever realized how special he is to me. I mean, I love Jazz—she's my daughter, and they're not joking about the whole father-daughter relationship. I love her to the heavens and beyond.

But, Danny...he's _my son._ My heir, in a way. All the ghost stuff is mostly in his name (I have a will—see, not dumb), although I left most of the financial matters in Jazz's hands. She's smarter than he is. I suppose the intelligence gene skipped the Fenton guys.

We certainly have enough heart and courage to make up for it, though.

But, I'm torn. He's...different, even _I_ can see it. I don't have any clue how to relate to him. He was always difficult for me to read, even when he was younger and didn't have ghost powers. I feel...almost unloved. That doesn't change how I feel about _him_, though. _He's still my son._ And now...now he needs me, whether he wants to admit it or not.

I wonder if he remembers how he tried to kill me that one time...

I've been standing in the background for the majority of the time. I don't want to approach him. I'm not _bitter_ about his attempt on my life, or how he seemed to ignore me and brush me off as just some annoyance before he left. It took the void of his absence to wake me up, in a way. I _know_ I've matured. Everyone says so.

And I believe them because _I know so._

Even when surrounded by his friends and mother, I can see the distance in his eyes. He's trying so hard to reconnect, but the things he has done sets him apart. He doesn't know how to get past the barrier of his guilt.

Well, I suppose some unconditional love might help, right?

I barrel up to him and pull him into a bear hug that makes him squirm slightly and laugh breathlessly.

"Hi, Dad," he says after I put him down. There's a hint of his old smile on his face and I beam at him. Let him think I'm stupid. As long as my boy is back, I don't care.

He surprises me by throwing his arms around my neck and giving me another hug. "I'm sorry," he tells me softly.

I simply slap him on the back once he's let go, making him stagger and smile. "It's alright, son. You're home and yourself again—that's what matters."

His smile is sad, but grateful.

"So, want some fudge?"

_That_ causes him to laugh and give me a smile that reminds me of the boy I thought I had lost. "Sure."


	7. Danny II

**Author:** And after an extended posting absence, I finish off this story! I hope you all enjoyed the read as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm sorry for my erratic posting schedule of late, but...

**Disclaimer:** Danny Phantom will belong to me never.

**Danny (II)**

My life has changed, for the worse as far as I can see. However, I know that, through thick and thin, I have my family and friends. Together, we'll figure out how to explain that no, I'm not evil anymore and yes, I _would_ like to finish high school and move on with my human life, atoning for my past sins as best I can.

I cannot go back and undo time—I wouldn't want to anyway. One must see the darkness of one's soul before one can truly decide how to live one's life. I saw that darkness for 4 years and have decided that, for better or for worse, I want to help people. The world _needs_ heroes, needs people to offset the ever-present darkness that seems to hang over everyone and everything. I am making the choice to step out of that darkness, and while I know it will most likely lead to suffering and misfortune, I will feel better for living life the way _I want to._

As I sit among my friends and family and see the approval in their eyes, feel the warmth of their presence, I feel hope that I thought I had squashed long and long ago return.

Hope.

For the future.

For _my_ future.

4 years is a long time. But, as Tuck said, I have even longer to undo all the damage, and I will use those years as best I can.

Danny Phantom is officially back. Ghosts and evil-doers beware.

Ha. I sound like the Box Ghost.

BEWARE!

---

**Post-note**: YES! I FINISHED A STORY! XD Anyone have 'what-if?' situations I can play with...?


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